In Deadly Cold He Will Reign
by SocksinSpace
Summary: BEING RE-WRITTEN UNDER THE TITLE 'Old Man, Young Fool' "Weeks turned into months, and then to Centuries, Jack's growing bitterness and desperation overpowering the childlike factors that made him, him." - The Guardians don't listen to Manny when he chooses Jack. Jack is left to his own devices for many many years after and loses himself to bitterness and rage.
1. It Is Here That All Is Lost

MiM waited, and waited, and waited for the Guardians to heed his demands. He knew that with a bit of foresight to their opponent's ways that they could win without Jack, but he also knew that if the Guardians didn't welcome the winter spirit into the fold soon… Well, to put it simply, they would have another Pitch on their hands. One fueled by confusion, loneliness, and a desperate desire to be seen. It broke the Tsar's heart to see his child so lonely and hurt… He would comfort the eternal child if he could, but sadly his power had been drained greatly from the feat of bringing a dead soul back to life and he could not communicate verbally with anyone for many more centuries to come.

"Jack is not Guardian, Man in Moon, why do you continue to insist? We have taken care of Pitch on our own already!" North's genuine confusion frustrated Lunar to no end, he wanted to scream but knew that he could not, they would be unable to hear him anyway.

Weeks turned into months, and then to years, and finally; Centuries passed, Jack's growing bitterness and desperation overpowering the childlike factors that made him, him. It was with a heavy heart that MiM watched helplessly as one by one the things the Guardians supposedly fought so hard to protect snuffed out of their weak existence within the boy. Manny couldn't help but pray that the Guardians felt the full force of each dying light just as he did. He claimed this boy as his son when he was brought from the dead, he would not forgive the Guardians for their neglect of his child.

:::Wonder:::

It was a cold bleak night when it happened, at exactly six hundred and thirty-two years of age. Jack stood motionless on the ground working the weather as only a seasonal with nothing else they could possibly do could. "I have it down to a science at this point." His tone was bland and rather monotonous, dulled once-blue eyes sparking with an unmistakable flare of disgust as he turned for the first time that night to regard the moon. "-ah." Jack's eyes widened for the briefest of moments, standing as rigid as he can sensibly become as he feels a sudden sharp snap somewhere deep inside him. A hand cold as the ice he commands touches his head in his momentary agony, as though he lost something. The winter spirit felt heavy and vaguely lost at the sensation, though oddly felt no need to address that occurrence with an inquiry he knows full well will go unheard and thusly unanswered.

"Peh- I'm done here, I may as well return to Burgess." Jack takes no time in soaring to the sky, not realising he no longer held any mirth or wonder at things he once found exciting. And the games he played with children who couldn't see him- _couldn't hear him couldn't touch him does he really exist?-_ were suddenly drab and duller than usual.

-Six Weeks After-

His attire was magnificent, stolen as needed and worn with a kleptomaniac's pride; A white silk shirt sparkled under moonlight and sat loose-fitting on his torso, tattered colonial pants finally traded in for black frosted over pants, the spirit wore several layers of light coats that all were colored in a different shade and tone of blue, while around his neck a black scarf coated in frost just the same as the rest of his attire. Jack scowled at the moon with obvious disdain and hatred, a hatred that ran so deep that it ran out all other logic and emotion. "Which will be next? I caught onto what happened; I lost my wonder, though it feels as though I lost nothing at all. I realise it was a burden now, and now I'm curious: will it be hope? dreams? memories? Will I loose myself to grief, will I decide my dreams are worthless of my time, or will I grow so old and lonely I have no need to remember anything save days or a month prior?"

The winter spirit harshly drove his staff into the ground without taking his eyes away from the dimly lit rock in the sky, perching himself atop it and grinning madly. There was a disturbing and disconcerting gleam in his near lifeless ash blue eyes, "I hope it's dreams. I'm tired of waking from a good dream just to see myself brought back to hell... I don't wish for nightmares of course, but dreamless sleep.. No dreams, that I want badly." That said Jack jumped from his perch and grabbed his staff. The grin that had plastered itself to a young pale face had faded, making way for a depressed look pointed at no one in particular. He hovered momentarily before flying off into the night.

::MiM::

A man looked up to for his guidance wept, far from eyes that would seek their source should they see the tears. He wept for a child that never had a future, has no recollection of his past, and has long despised the one who wished to be a father to his creation with all his ancient heart. Tsar Lunar wept and wept and hoped for all it was worth, his child of ice could not be down this road, he refused to allow it, but he wept all the same. He let the salty liquid fall only because he knew the truth. "Oh, Jack. I am so sorry for leaving you on your own." Spoke the man from an age long past.


	2. Tears Of A Broken Boy

MiM still tries, sometimes, to lure the Guardians to his son. "700 years.. _700 years_ and I still can't speak to anyone on earth with words! Why can't those fools see what's happening? The way winter is growing harsher, crueler, more erratic?" Jack had no wonder to keep his winters light and joyous, and his joy, his undiscovered center, was more twisting and corrupting of its own accord than disappearing. The shepherd of winter was becoming entertained by the shortcomings and pain of mortals that struggle during his season. It is only by luck that the children have gone unharmed thus far, and Manny takes that as a sign, a reason to hope. His boy still refuses to harm those he wishes so badly to see him.

"It's been so long, he is so _alone_ …"

::Years Prior, When Wonder Was Lost, North Pole::

North had busied himself with his preparations for Christmas, both the start and end of the yearly prep being exceptionally tedious and rushed. It was at that moment in time that he had begun the checking of the 'naughty' and 'nice' lists, as well as updating himself with that year's most popular child-centric toys. If one were to pass by his office by any chance they would be able to hear him commenting to no one about the children and their ever-changing interests, though none of the workers paid him any mind as they all, yeti and elf alike, bustled about in their own pre-production prep.

The elves had simply gathered scraps that lay about for them to entertain themselves with and keep themselves out of the yetis' fur, while the yetis sat materials and tools about the workstations. Some that were closest to North's office when he let out a startled yelp rushed inside to see what had caused the reaction, only to find St. Nick frowning with a thoughtful expression. "I am used to child growing up, loosing wonder, but the sensation from that was very- unpleasant. It was old, very old, maybe that vas why?" Nicholas's frown deepened at the confused shrug he received in answer. "It is gone. nothing ve can do now. Go, return to Christmas prep, I am fine." He sat down as the Yeti all filed out of the room, contemplation clear on the Cossack's still frowning face. He had no peace that day, as the uncomfortable void settled and the foreboding feeling kept him on edge.

:::Hope:::

He still held out hope. He hoped that maybe, just maybe, someone would see him. He knew deep down that hoping for something like that was ridiculous, but he still tried. He followed a child out to the edge of the woods where they would be away from others but still be able to be spotted by their parents so they knew their child was safe. Jack proceeded to do a great many things to get the child's attention; snowballs, unexplained acts involving snow clinging to branches and very strong winds, and near the end, pleas. "Just.. S-Say my name, please." He was so desperate to be acknowledged, to not be so completely and utterly alone, that he was becoming near-hysterical. The child was scared, only slightly, but soon became curious. They looked around while Jack watched with bated breath and comically wide eyes. "Jack Frost, please. Just-" The child cut him off by walking right through him with a confused look, they'd wanted to explore a bit at the permission of their parents, but found themselves instead wary of the abnormal occurrences of the short-lived expedition.

There was pain unlike what Jack has felt before, a burning and sudden flicker of light before tears welled in his now utterly colorless eyes. No mirth nor joviality had shown in those snowy irises, the burning sensation was gone as sudden as it came and leaving his icy body cool once more. Jack took no time in shooting off and startling the child that walked through him by shooting by and consequently sending a heap of snow into the cherubic face of an oblivious child.

The winter spirit locked himself away in the south pole, in an ice cave which he carved with wildly whipping winds and harsh ice blowing into and crashing with a crack against the cave's inner walls. He wept, he held no hope, and his thoughts were consumed by nothing but the basest things that he now saw as vital. All else, however, began to gradually fade from his memory. His tears fell as ice and nothing, not even mother nature, could stop him from crying tears he had spent many centuries holding back.


	3. NOT A CHAPTER

**Due to some personal issues, I'll be on a short Hiatus with my writing for both my current works. I'll also be taking into consideration lengthening and possibly re-doing some chapters so the stories run smoother and aren't choppy.**

 **As to why I'm going on Hiatus, I've fallen into writer's block, for one, and my already amateur work becomes very…** ** _convoluted_** **when I attempt writing like that. More so than it likely already is.**

 **I'll be sure to come back as soon as I can, in the meantime, please excuse my absence.**

 **Your's truly,**

 **SocksinSpace**


	4. Memory Loss

MiM made it as clear as day just how enraged he was with the Guardians. Protectors of childhood or not, they had abandoned his son.

The boy in question had finally come out of hiding. His storm- which had baffled the humans to a miserable degree and left Mother Nature trying and failing to calm the winter child's creation- had finally dispersed and Manny was capable of seeing the boy he cared so greatly for.

What he saw, however, was devastating to say the least.

There Jack was, emerging from a cave of ice, now aged 1023. He was covered in scars from head-to-toe, probably from icy debris that seemed to have found the boy even in the cavern he had been carving carefully over the centuries. He stared at the moon with a flash of sick glee and a silent, wordless promise.

'Revenge'

MiM had no choice, he had to tell the Guardians.

::Many Years Prior, When Hope Was Lost, Australia::

Bunnymund nearly jumped out of his fur when he felt it, a jolt not unlike a stab to the chest with an electrocuted knife shooting through his body. There was a very, very fast retreat from the spot in which he had been stationary in for several days, painting, and he allowed himself a shaky sigh.

"Bloody bollocks, when tha' happens it usually doesn't 'urt as bad." He silently proclaimed to himself, resting a paw on his chest and gently rubbing the area of discomfort. Bunny's eyebrows furrowed in thought as he tried to comprehend what just happened: Hope, a very strong, very big, and very strained hope. It was there, and when he thinks about it, it was flashing desperately just moments ago before crumbling and vanishing without a trace. Something wasn't right, he knew it, but there wasn't anything he could do.

"There's not a trace o' it left, can't jus' go trying to track the one tha' lost it if I don't have a trail…"

He let out a heaving, sad sigh. Oh well, he would just have to hope that the poor soul ended up alright. Though he couldn't deny a sense of distant foreboding as he continued with his work.

:::Memories:::

Jack sat and pondered, he doesn't know how long he's been sitting here, he just knows it's been a long time. How old is he? What year is it? What day is it for that matter?

He doesn't know, and he can't bring himself to care.

Slowly he raises from the snow and takes one last look at his sworn enemy, a crazed gleam in his now very light dusty blue eyes. Ice had built up on his scarred frame over time, though how long he doesn't know. Chips of hoarfrost grew in his hair, and jagged rime lined his teeth and shaped them into little pointed razors. Claws of permafrost disfigured his hands and icicles hung off of him in masses, covering his clothing and making him appear to be wearing a strange cloak of sorts.

He gripped his staff tightly, now nothing more than a block of jagged ice and wood, and he was gone.

His memory no longer lasted more than a week, at most.


	5. So It Begins

The Guardians had gathered, being brought to the North Pole by the Aurora and left to wait with bated breath for why they had been summoned together. Tsar Lunar watched them for a moment with an unreadable expression, though with sorrow clear in his gaze. "It comes to this… Oh Jack, how terrible I am for bringing you into a world that would only destroy you." He took a deep breath, felt his power surge through as it had over a thousand years ago on one fateful winter's night, and spoke:

"Guardians." The resulting startled gasps left him at a nervous pause, contemplating what he would say.

"Guardians," He starts again "I have asked you many times to take in a spirit, to make him a Guardian. You have denied and neglected this spirit for over a thousand years, a spirit I have claimed as my child, a child I rose from the dead." He could see their faces, the dawning horror and realization. Not a one of them dare speak.

"Jack Frost, my son by proxy, has lost his wonder-" North cringed, clearly remembering something from oh so long ago. "Hope-" It was Bunny's turn to cringe, his expression warping to guilt. "-And memories." At this Tooth wept, wet streams replacing dried tracks on her cheeks. "He remembers nothing but a name, and runs on bone-deep grudges he no longer understands." His voice grew more bitter as he spoke, the menacing tone causing the big four to cower. Tsar Lunar closed his eyes, took a deep, shuddering breath, and issued his warning.

"Jack Frost has left Antarctica, and because of you all, has become your second Pitch Black."

And at that, he spoke no more.

 **::Mere Hours Prior, Tooth Palace, When Memories Were Lost::**

There were tears, many tears. Just moments ago she was cooing over a tooth her fairies had brought her, and the next she was falling out of the sky. Her tears could be seen, but not heard in the bustle of buzzing wings and worried chirps. "I-I'm alright, girls, someone just… just lost their memories…" In truth, she was in immense pain. The amnesiac in question's memory lost had caused her to feel as though every last one of her feathers had been pulled out all at once. Who was it? Could she do anything? She couldn't very well restore the memories of someone when she can't for the life of her think of who it is.

Eventually, she goes back to her duties, but her mind wanders, and that uneasy feeling settling in her core escalates when she sees the Aurora.

 **::Joy & Dreams::**

His center unknown has twisted and warped, as has his dreams. Dreams of a frozen world, undeserving, cruel. He had no idea why he was doing this and no clue why his every thought was malicious and filled with desperate pleas. _'see me see me see me s_ _ **EE ME SEE ME LOVE ME SEE ME IM REAL IMREALIMREA U'**_

His grin was terrifying, but oh, _oh,_ how much fun he was having….

"Let us see if silver light will save you, bells and eggs and teeth and sand."

Even to him the words made no sense.


	6. Now here we are

The four stood in stunned silence, watching in horror and overwhelming guilt as the moon's light dimmed. Tooth cried soundless tears, Sandy looked distraught, North seemed as though he was going to faint, and Bunny...

"All I eva' did wos treat 'im badly... Like 'e was nothing more than a pest." His voice was faint, soft and filled to the brim with regret. Tears streamed down his face to muss and dampen his fur, and his eyes travelled from the soft silver glow of the moon to the others, and finally to land on the ground. The news hit him the worst, old memories dredging themselves up into his conscious and eliciting a pained keen. "'Es just a kid, now tha' I really think about it. Physically 'e couldn' be older than fourteen. A... An ankle-bitah really.." Slowly, so slowly and in a weak manner that was so very unlike the Guardian of hope, he tapped the ground. There were startled gasps all around as they fell into the hole that appeared under their feet, though no words were exchanged between them as they went through the motions; Search planet, find threat, deal with threat accordingly.

It was far from their starting point that a lost child of winter was mindlessly fighting several summer spirits.

"You aren't supposed to be here, winterling!" Cried the largest, most likely the leader. "Go back to your domain! To the snow and ice where you belong!" Her words fell on deaf ears, however, for Jack simply went through the motions. Frostbite, hack here, slash there, stab that one, freeze this one. He heard nothing but the droning of his own thoughts. 'They're in your way! Kill them Kill them Kill them!' and somewhere deep, deep in the back of his mind, a place he bothers not to reach, he asks himself 'Why am I doing this?'

It is to the dismay of the Summer Queen and the spirits accompanying her that Jack was not familiar with the concept of 'mercy' and her majesty was forced to retreat, alone, as the spirits under her command kept the winter child at bay and were promptly slaughtered. She watched from afar each summer spirit fall limply from the sky, frostbite covering them, parts severed or frozen, and all with great, gaping holes in their chests. "I must warn Mother." Spoke the Summer Queen to herself with distracted urgency, and off she flew to do just that.

Jack watched on as the last victim fell, eyes scrutinising the distant blip of summer red, orange, and wheat brown. His only reasoning for not going after her was thanks to his attention being drawn to the chilling desert, now covered in blindingly bright now and the icy carnage of battle.

He sighed, an eerie smile working its way upon his blue-tinted, bloodless face.

"Not enough."

 _ **For those wondering, I haven't updated 'Young Eternal' due to currently lacking motivation and ideas on how to continue. I'd expect the hiatus for that work to be a fairly long one until I can work past the mentioned hurdles. I hope you all understand, and thank you all so much for your support thus far!**_

 _ **-Your friend,  
SocksinSpace**_


	7. Not a chapter! (Please read)

**I know I haven't updated in a while, and I'm terribly sorry for that. Right now my focus is on getting a comic series started on Tapastic and updating All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy on AO3 I promise that I'll be returning to IDCHSR soon, and later on, once I have the inspiration for it again, Young Eternal. Thank you for your support thus far and to those that have been patient with my slow updates and painfully short chapters!**


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